


in three-quarter time

by sophia_sol



Category: Den lille Havfrue | The Little Mermaid - Hans Christian Andersen, Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Misses Clause Challenge, outside pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 08:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophia_sol/pseuds/sophia_sol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The princess reflects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in three-quarter time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crumblingwalls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crumblingwalls/gifts).



> See end notes for any warnings. Thank you to my fantabulous beta for her help in making this fic better!

Before my marriage, I didn't pay much attention to that strange, sad, silent girl - the one who had no family and was taken in as a kindness. I was too caught up in thoughts of how my life was about to change so completely.

I knew my betrothed husband had a fondness for the girl, and he'd seen to it she had a place among his people for life, and even kept her near to him where nobody could take advantage of her silence and her innocence. He felt sorry for her, I think, and she in turn seemed grateful for every drop of attention he gave her. The careful, caring way he treated her made me think vaguely that she must be some distant relative down on her luck.

The first time I really noticed her was my wedding - well, who wouldn't, the way she danced? I can still picture it if I try. I thought she must live for nothing but dancing; she _belonged_ to the dance floor, perfectly and astonishingly graceful, never tiring, always somehow managing to raise her dance partners to a degree of elegance they could never have achieved alone. And yet the expression on her face as she danced was distant, with none of the joy that should accompany such joyful dancing.

I kept an eye on her in the time following my marriage, then, for such a dancer was a gift to any household. But I never saw her dance again.

And as I watched her, I noticed other things. For one, she seemed to have no friends but my husband, and he was busy enough learning the art of ruling that he hardly had time for me, much less the silent girl. I was busy too, learning to make a place for myself within the bustling world of the castle and preparing for the day when I would be queen beside my husband. And everyone else seemed to be put off by how apart she always seemed, how she never reached out but was wholly self-contained. She made no efforts toward friendship. But I would see the girl sometimes, drifting without purpose down hallways, staring out windows, going for walks to the sea - and always with eyes that spoke of nothing but despair.

She was clearly in need of something, and I had a responsibility for her, as I did for everyone in the household. But she would only smile and shake her head if asked whether anything was wrong; a lie, of course, but if I tried to press further she would gently rebuff me.

It pained me to think how alone the girl was, so I found a tutor for her, one who could teach her to read and write - to communicate. I chose the tutor myself, a kind and patient man. The girl was as aloof with him as she was with most people, but she learned quickly, and soon she could most often be found in the library.

I spoke with my husband about her, then, and he said she was a mystery - had appeared one day out of nowhere on the palace steps, with no possessions, not even a stitch of clothing. He'd sent word out, but could find no hint of a girl like her gone missing from anywhere in the kingdom. He'd resigned himself to knowing nothing of her past, and simply endeavoured to improve her present. A noble man, my husband has always been, and so kind. I am lucky to have him.

I continued on as I had begun, and consulted with her on what else she wished to learn. I was careful to choose the best teachers for her. After that her days were filled: learning history, poetry, painting, embroidery, mathematics, medicine, musical instruments, and language after language. My days were busier than ever too, this being the time when my first child was born, so I was glad I had entrusted the girl to the care of her teachers. She still had no friends, but it seemed to me she was a touch less despairing; and although she still took regular walks to the water's edge, I no longer saw her staring mournfully out of windows. It was an improvement.

Time passed, as time does. I mostly stopped thinking about her. My father-in-law died and my husband became king. I found myself ten times as busy as I had been before, and I was content merely to see that the girl always seemed occupied when I saw her, intently focused on whatever she happened to be doing.

I saw her less and less as the years went by - but then I did not frequent the library, her usual haunt. I knew she was still around, still learning, but she remained so silent and unseen that it sometimes felt as though we had a ghost in the castle. The servants discussed her in hushed voices that faded to silence if they knew I was near.

And then one day my husband asked after her and I realized I had not seen her in a month. We searched and could not find. Questions put to servants revealed that they had not seen her either.

She had disappeared without a trace, and no matter how we looked we never found her.

This all happened decades ago, but I still think of that girl sometimes. I wonder what happened to her. Did she die of an illness alone and forgotten in some hidden corner of the castle? Did the lure of the ocean and the weight of her long-carried sadness draw her to the depths of the water? Or did she leave the safety of the castle to meet the world on her own terms, find a place where she could be herself instead of just a pitied charity-guest?

I hope it was the latter - she deserved better than what she had. I do wish I could have done more for her. But I was young in those days, too focused on playing my role correctly to remember to be a person too. I didn't think to be a friend for her myself.

I've tried to aim my efforts better since.

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for brief mention of possible suicide


End file.
